For Rivière la Pêche, Wakefield, Quebec

Your power, your rush, "Little River"
    was strong enough for the village mill:
      you drove gears to turn
        the stone wheel
          that ground grist for pioneers’ flour.

But you can't realize –
    as you race headlong
      flinging foam and spray
        down jagged rock steps
          towards the wide Gatineau –

You fed the village
for a hundred years!
And you’ll capture the sunlight
for a thousand more.

On the bridge at the top of the dam
I pause.
I reflect.
And so I come to realize
that it's better
to leave rushing
to rivers.